Jacq's Warlord (26 page)

A tall gangly youth left to do her bidding, returning a moment later with a copper tub. A curtain was quickly hung and Jacq sighed in relief. Well, when in Rome…

Jacq was already pulling the strings under her arms to loosen the dress and kicking off her shoes when a woman, several years younger than she, descended on her and took over the task.

“I’m called Matilda. The steward, William, has suggested I might do well as your lady’s maid while you’re here.”

“Thank you, Matilda.” Extremely embarrassed at being undressed by a perfect stranger, Jacq kept her mouth shut and pretended she was used to it.

As she was stripped, a procession of servants, all female, brought steaming buckets of water to fill the bath. Several were left at the side of the tub, as well as toweling fabric and cloths, and a pot of creamy, scented soap.

“That will be all, Matilda,” a deep voice said.

Jacq started. She’d forgotten Rufus was in the room. Matilda curtsied to them both before departing. Jacq had to catch herself before she returned the gesture.

Eager now to remove days’ worth of dirt from her body, she approached the tub, oblivious to the commotion beyond the curtain or the man watching her. The tub was barely large enough to squat in, but after testing the temperature with her toe and finding it perfect, she stepped in and knelt. Then she reached for a bucket to pour water over her head and shoulders.

The bucket was lifted out of her grasp. Rufus had removed his tunic and boots and was kneeling on the floor beside her. After wetting her head, he filled his palm with the fragrant soap and began to wash her hair, raking her scalp gently with his long fingers.

Her head fell back and she closed her eyes, moaning softly. She must have died and gone to heaven.

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When he finished, he poured several pitchers of clean water over her head to rinse away the soap.

Opening her eyes, she looked at him. “Thank you. That was wonderful.”

He handed her a towel, and she wrapped it around her head, then gasped when she felt the rub of a soapy cloth against her back.

“Are you a lady’s maid now? I can finish this up,” she said breathlessly.

“Would you deny me the pleasure?” he whispered.

Mindful of the interested ears beyond the curtain, she shook her head. Then she closed her eyes, giving herself up to his tender ministrations. She bit her lip to stop her moans at each swipe of the rough cloth against her alert nipples and each foray his hand made beneath the water to cleanse her swelling pussy.

Finally, he wrung out the cloth, and offered her a hand to help her rise from the tub.

Her legs trembled and she might have fallen back if he hadn’t reached to steady her.

Her skin burned beneath his palms and she leaned toward him.

He winked. “My turn to bathe,” he said loud enough for the entire room to hear.

“I’ll need fresh water.”

“Coming right up, milord,” Agnes responded, beyond the curtain.

“Dress yourself,” Rufus growled to Jacq.

“Wouldn’t you like me to return the favor?” she asked saucily.

“If I let you, neither of us will be eating dinner. There is a robe on a peg outside the curtain. Now dress, and hie yourself out of here so I can finish.” He reached for the tie at the waist of his braies and looked at her pointedly.

She giggled, and whirled away. The tent in his trousers was ample proof he was in a hurt, too. Holding the curtain edge to cover her, she snagged the robe and donned it, tying it around her securely.

Matilda met her at the door of the keep and led her through the hall to a set of stone stairs leading upward to the next level. Abovestairs were rooms off the sides of the hallway, some of which stood open. Jacq craned her neck to look into the sparsely furnished quarters.

“William will give you a full tour of the keep on the morrow.” Matilda paused with her hand on the latch of a door, blushing. “These are his lordship’s lodgings.”

Jacq wondered what the girl thought about the sleeping arrangements. Rufus must have announced they were to share living space. Not overly concerned about what conclusions the castlefolk would draw from this, she was amused by Matilda’s embarrassment.

To change the direction of her thoughts, Jacq asked Matilda, “And where do you stay?”

“There is a small room across the way. Should you require my services, you have only to call.”

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Disturbed that any person should be at her beck and call, Jacq kept her silence. She wanted very much to question Matilda, but as a “lady” she was reluctant to act outside her role.

Jacq braced herself as Matilda swung open the door—too many “ill winds” had blown her way this day. Instead Jacq was pleasantly surprised. Where only rough comforts existed in common areas of the keep, here, the master’s comfort was assured.

Matilda had been a busy girl. A fire blazed in the corner in an ornate brazier. The ever-present damp chill from the stone walls was further reduced by a large, colorful carpet on the floor and tapestries hanging on the walls.

Thankful the floor covering wasn’t vegetable matter, Jacq entered the room. A massive, four-poster bed draped with curtains consumed most of the space against one wall.

“Milady, if you will have a seat, I’ll comb your hair.” Matilda pointed to a stool before the brazier, and while Jacq sat indolently before the fire, Matilda eased a comb through her curling mass of hair, working out the tangles until it lay glistening in the firelight.

A knock at the door announced the arrival of two men carrying a large trunk.

Without a word, they plunked it on the floor and disappeared.

Jacq rose to see what was inside.

Matilda rushed to assist her. “These were Lady Beatrice’s clothes—Lord Rufus’

mother.”

Jacq’s hands shook as she lifted the heavy lid. The honor Rufus had bestowed was not lost on her. Not many lords would give his mother’s clothes to a leman. She pushed aside any deeper meanings and glanced inside. Jacq found a multitude of beautiful gowns of all colors, fabrics and styles trimmed in ornate braids and ribbons.

A sea-green velvet gown captured her attention and she pulled it out, holding it up against her chest. The dress was beautiful, but would need alterations before she could wear it without everyone howling with laughter. Rufus’ mother must have been at least a foot shorter than Jacq. Thank goodness he didn’t take after her in height or she’d feel like a lone giant among pygmies.

Jacq raised an eyebrow to Matilda, and the girl’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Lady Jacq, I will have the green one altered by morning. I’m sure there is fabric in some other dress we can use to lengthen the hem. In the meantime, I will brush the dirt out of your red dress before dinner.” Matilda grabbed the dress and rushed out of the room.

“Thank you, I appreciate all you’ve done for me,” Jacq called out to the maid’s back as she hurried away.

“You’re quite welcome,” said a deep male voice from beyond the doorway a moment before Rufus filled the space with his broad shoulders. He strode in, looking impossibly handsome, his dark hair clean and brushing the tops of his broad shoulders.

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He wore a white shirt, black leggings and a tunic in midnight blue silk trimmed with silver braid and embroidery.

“You are a vision, Lady Jacq,” he said, his eyes full of the same hunger she felt.

Jacq snorted, dispelling any likelihood of being considered a lady. “No, you’re the beautiful one. I’m afraid I’ll be dressed in my old rags tonight.”

He frowned. “What of the trunk I ordered brought up? Would nothing fit?”

“Hardly. I’m honored by your kindness in offering me the use of your mother’s things, but she must have been a small woman compared to me.”

Rufus’ gaze traveled the length of her body from top to toe. “I believe all women are small compared to you.” His tone was clearly appreciative.

Jacq blushed, loving how he could take her from feeling huge and gawking to feminine and utterly desirable in just a few words and hot looks.

Rufus closed the distance separating them and took her into his arms. “Are all women as tall where you are from?”

Winding her arms around him tightly, she leaned her head back to look at his face.

She couldn’t help teasing him just a bit. “No, but there are a good many more who are than there are now.”

He looked quizzically at her, and she could almost hear him rolling her statement around in his head to discern its meaning.

Jacq ducked her face to hide her expression, laying her head on his shoulder. What was keeping her from telling him the truth? A nagging little voice in the back of her head kept reminding her this was the twelfth century and they burned women as witches for lesser claims. Knowing Rufus as she did now, she couldn’t bring herself to believe he would do such a thing to her. He had done everything in his power to protect her. Surely he would understand.

She inhaled deeply. “Rufus, I’d like to tell you—”

A knock at the door interrupted her words and they broke apart as Matilda entered, carrying the red dress over her arm.

“Oh excuse me, milord.” Matilda’s cheeks turned a fiery red, and she averted her eyes from the couple. “I just need to deliver Lady Jacq’s dress and I will be out of your way.”

She ducked past him, draped the dress over the bed and backed out of the room, curtsying as she went. “The cook said to tell you dinner is ready to serve whenever you are ready…milord. Will you be needing help with the dress, milady?”

“Thank you, Matilda. I believe I won’t need any assistance tonight.” Jacq smothered a smile for the flustered maid.

When Matilda closed the door behind her, Jacq turned to Rufus and tilted her head.

“Do you have this effect on all women, Lord Rathburn?”

“And what effect are you talking about, sweet lady?” He stepped toward her and plucked at the tie holding her robe closed.

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Breathless now, she responded honestly, “This melting…” She leaned into him and nibbled at his chin. “…quivery…” She bit his earlobe as the robe opened and his hands reached inside to encircle her. “…ache…deep inside…”

He drew her naked body against the warm fabric of his clothing.

“I suppose they’re expecting us downstairs for dinner?” She raised a leg to slide against his hip.

“They can wait.” Rufus growled, gripped her bottom and raised her from the floor to plant a moist, wickedly sensual kiss on her lips.

When they came up for air, Jacq’s ankles were locked behind his back, and she felt the ridge of his cock pulsing at her core. Just then, her stomach rumbled loudly and she giggled against his lips.

“I guess that means I have to feed you first.” He sounded disappointed.

She laughed again, and then groaned as he released her. When she untangled her legs to stand, her knees wobbled and she felt lightheaded. She stepped toward the bed and her clothing, but he tugged the neck of her robe. She turned and shot him a questioning glance.

“We weren’t finished with our…conversation. You wanted to tell me something?”

He pressed feather-soft kisses on the side of her neck, trailing down to the opening of the robe and the shadows between her breasts.

“What? Oh, yes. About…ummm…” Jacq tried, but she couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought. When his tongue dipped between her breasts, her knees buckled. If not for the strength of the arms around her, she would have melted into a pool of mush at his feet.

“You were saying?”

When she opened her eyes, he was staring down at her. “Was I saying something?”

Her head was fuzzy with chaotic thoughts of more carnal activities.

“Yes. You were going to tell me something.” He shook his head and chuckled softly, then kissed her on the end of her nose. “Perhaps you’ll remember what it was later. Now, there is a hall full of hungry people awaiting our arrival so they can eat their meal. Although I would rather skip the celebration and have one of our own up here, I am expected.” Smacking her rump playfully he commanded, “Hurry and get dressed before I forget my duty and bed you now.” Rufus disappeared through the door.

She stuck her tongue out at his departing figure, then sighed. “The man is too sexy for my concentration.”

Jacq returned to the trunk for undergarments. Beatrice may have been short, but she was somewhat plump. Thankfully, Jacq at least had fresh clothing next to her skin.

She finished dressing, and hurried to follow Lord Rathburn.

The scoundrel stood outside his chamber with his shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and a wicked smile tilting the corners of his lips. Without a word, he offered his arm and together they descended the steps to the hall below.

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Jacq held her head high and tried to act the part of a lady so as not to embarrass Rufus. The whole way she mentally coached herself not to trip on her skirt or say something stupid. Damn, she wished she were back in the field, teaching the men how to camouflage. A little camouflage would be nice about now.

He led her to the table sitting on a raised dais, which was the only one that had individual chairs instead of the standard benches. He made the introductions. Sir Geoffrey and his wife, Enid, Father Haskell, William the steward and Donald shared the table with them.

Surprisingly, dinner was not the ordeal she had envisioned. The conversation was light. The topics of the men’s impending departure and Jacq’s misadventures were never raised. Even Donald kept his gibes directed elsewhere.

The best part for Jacq was Rufus’ attention. He fed her, cutting her meats and offering her a taste of every savory dish laid before them. She found the custom a very sensuous one. As Rufus fed her he watched her, his intense brown gaze smoldering every time her tongue darted out to catch a drop of sauce on her lips. Once he wiped her lips with his fingers and brought the sauce to his own. He was being very naughty.